


still I call it magic

by soleilouis



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Canon Compliant, Fluff, M/M, Schmoop, Smut, The X Factor Era, Touring, a lil mix of everything
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-04
Updated: 2014-05-04
Packaged: 2018-01-21 23:25:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 14,664
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1567802
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/soleilouis/pseuds/soleilouis
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>non-au. harry and louis before and after concerts throughout the last 4 years.</p>
            </blockquote>





	still I call it magic

**Author's Note:**

> the new tour sparked something in me, and i love thinking about their ~journey over the last few years, so \o/ sickeningly sweet, which should just be a disclaimer on all of my fics at this point
> 
> this has just been looked over at best, so any mistakes are my own! esp re: brit talk. a big thank ya as always to my beans for being the absolute best cheerleading team i could ask for, and a special thanks to jordan for encouraging me to write harry body worship at all times. i know nothing/am not claiming any of this is real/don't know what i'm doing, basically

**1\. the x factor, final live performance (pre-show)**

Harry is fairly certain that he is going to vomit. Like, he didn’t eat anything today, specifically for this reason, but his tongue feels too big for his mouth and he’s starting to sweat through his shirt. He knows deep down that he won’t actually get sick - he never does - but the hour leading up to every performance where he feels like he’s on the verge of dying is never his shining moment. 

“Have you seen Niall? He’s been talking my fuckin’ ear off and now-- Haz?” Harry hears Louis calling from the hallway before he sees him. Louis peeks his head into the small room backstage where Harry’s currently sat in a very comfortable bean bag. It’s bright pink and probably big enough to fit three people on it, and Harry doesn’t want to move for the rest of the night. Or ever. Surely the other four boys can perform without him, just this once. 

Harry looks up from his place on the floor, giving Louis a weak smile. “Hi.” 

“Y’alright? We go on pretty soon.” Louis walks into the room slowly, looking around to make sure that Harry is alone before kicking the door closed. “Not that I don’t enjoy the view,” he adds, raising an eyebrow as he gives Harry’s long body, stretched out on the bean bag, a good once-over. 

Harry rolls his eyes and pulls one foot up to prop on top of his knee. “‘m just nervous, I guess.” 

Louis hums and nods, understanding immediately where Harry’s at in his own head. 

Louis never gets proper nervous, Harry thinks. He gets anxious in ways that Harry doesn’t, freaking himself out about his voice in rehearsals and worrying himself to death about his family. When it comes to everything else, though, Louis always seems to keep it together. He’s what all of the boys need, exactly when they need it. He’s soft and quiet with Harry, cuddled up and making him laugh once he’s relaxed, peppering kisses all over his face to make him feel special. Louis and Zayn usually play video games until Zayn eventually cracks and tells Louis what’s bothering him, and Louis quietly pauses the game and listens. He listens to music with Niall, letting Niall talk until he’s blue in the face about the technical side of things, asking questions to keep Niall engaged and his mind elsewhere. Liam is different - Louis has learned that he has to pester Liam until he’s just reached his breaking point, ready to absolutely kill Louis, before Liam will finally sag his shoulders and tell Louis what’s going on. 

“What’re you nervous for? We’ve practiced this song, like, a hundred times,” Louis responds with a casual shrug, a smile creeping onto his face. He walks further into the room, stopping once his feet hit Harry’s bean bag. 

Harry knows that Louis is right - he always is. He should shake it off, get up from this too-bright bean bag and finish getting ready for their performance. Instead he groans dramatically and throws an arm over his eyes. 

“None of that, babe,” Louis says with a laugh. “Budge up.” He kicks the bean bag lightly, and Harry drops the arm from his face and lays it out beside him. Louis settles himself next to Harry, letting his head rest on Harry’s bicep. 

“Did I tell you that I heard you singing the chorus in the shower the other morning?” he asks after they’re silent for a few long minutes. 

Harry turns his head to face Louis and furrows his brow. “No?”

“Yeah, was brushing my teeth and you were singing it. Quite nice if I do say so myself.” Louis grins . 

“We’re a proper thing, Lou, you have to say that.” Harry groans again. 

“I do not, thank you very much.” Louis pouts his lower lip, trying to look indignant. 

Harry wants to kiss him. He always wants to kiss him. 

“Fine, alright,” Harry says finally, making Louis smile and nod. He puts his arm around Louis’ shoulder, pulling him closer to his body. The room they’re in is deeper in the hallway than anyone from the crew scuttling about tends to go, and the door is shut, so he allows himself this. 

“‘m just scared, like-- I don’t know, this could be it for us? Tonight, I mean. Like, the big night where we win or the even bigger night where we lose and I have to go back to Holmes Chapel like a big loser.” 

“You’ll never go back there as a big loser, are you joking?” Louis lifts his head to look Harry square in the eye. “For one, you’re the coolest guy I know. Second, people _love_ you Harry. Everyone loves you.” 

Harry wonders briefly if Louis knows that he loves him yet. He thinks he’s loved Louis since the beginning of all of this, really, but he figures this probably isn’t the time to mention it. 

“Not everyone.” Harry laughs nervously. “But I guess you’re right. I am pretty cool.” 

“Go on, then.” Louis rolls his eyes, flopping back onto the bean bag and laying his head on Harry’s shoulder. 

“We’re gonna be great, yeah?” Harry asks, placing a kiss on top of Louis’ head. He isn’t sure that he means just for tonight or the rest of their career, if they have one. He isn’t even sure if he’s just talking about One Direction anymore.

Louis must understand the loaded question because when he looks up, his eyes are shining with something like excitement and maybe even a bit of nerves. “Yeah.” 

He kisses Harry quickly on the lips, nuzzling his face against his neck after. “The best.” 

**2\. the x factor, final live performance (post-show)**

They’ve lost. 

One Direction comes in a very-much-not-winning third place, and Harry wants to fucking cry. 

“You know you guys smashed it, right? This isn’t over.” Gemma is saying next to him, but everything feels like a dull buzz compared to the sound of his own heart pounding in his ears. 

“God, what shit,” Harry says, pushing the heels of his hands against his eyes. 

He doesn’t want to cry, not here in front of the boys and everyone’s family. There’s crew everywhere, shuffling them in the direction of the room where they’ll wait for their after-show interview - the last thing that any of them want to do right now. Harry just needs to have a good cry and a moment alone, but mostly he needs Louis. 

As if he’s heard Harry’s subconscious call his name, Louis comes up behind him a moment later and places a timid hand on the small of his back. Gemma squeezes Harry’s hand and gives Louis a sympathetic nod over Harry’s shoulder before whispering that she’ll give them a minute. Harry watches her join his parents across the room, all three of them now watching him with sad eyes. He can’t deal with this.

Harry turns around slowly to face Louis, letting out a long breath. That’s the moment he loses it, really, immediately seeing the disappointment in Louis’ eyes. He looks so young like this, like he’s got no idea what happens now. 

“Fuck,” Harry half-sobs, closing his eyes tightly and letting out a quiet whimper. He sucks in his bottom lip, biting down harshly and trying to breathe through his nose. 

“Baby,” Louis says, moving in closer to Harry and reaching up to squeeze his shoulder. “Shh,” he hushes him gently, giving Harry a minute to collect himself. “Harry, look at me.” 

Harry wipes at his eyes roughly and looks at Louis. “I’m an idiot.”

“Haz--”

“I actually thought we would win. I don’t know why I thought we could really do this--”

“Hey, stop. We did it, yeah? We didn’t actually win, but who cares. That doesn’t mean everything just goes to shit.” Louis squeezes Harry’s shoulder, letting his hand move to stroke up and down Harry’s arm. “We can still do this.”

“I guess.” Harry shrugs and sniffs.

Louis smiles at him, and Harry can tell he’s had his moment already, probably a quick cry pressed against his mom’s shoulder right after they came off stage. He knows Louis cares quite a lot actually, that this is everything to him and more, but Louis is always quick to recover. He’s always the one to make sure that everyone is alright, even if he isn’t. 

“And you know what else, baby?” 

Harry shakes his head, and Louis continues, “We’re still getting that apartment after this. You and me. And you still have all of us, me and the boys. Plus, Simon fucking loves us.” 

Harry chuckles softly. “True.” 

“You do still want to get an apartment right?” Louis asks, his eyes searching Harry’s face. “Even though we didn’t win?” 

Harry rolls his eyes. There’s literally nothing he wants more than to wake up to the sound of Louis singing in the shower or to Louis next to him in bed. He even wants to pick up his dirty socks (Louis is the messiest person he’s ever encountered - it’s incredible, really). He won’t mention it, but he can’t wait to pick out ugly couch pillows that will only end up on the floor when they snog. 

“Of course, you tit,” Harry jokes, pushing at Louis’ hips. “‘course I want that.” 

Louis beams. “Good. Cause you can’t get rid of me this easily.”

“Shut up.” Harry laughs, shaking his head and looking down at the floor. There’s a blush creeping up onto his cheeks already. He’s been weak for Louis since day one, he’s the first to admit it. He knows they’re sickening, right, would know it even if Zayn didn’t tell them every single day. 

“No, seriously. I know you thought that losing would be the easy way out, but you’re wrong, Styles. You’re stuck making me breakfast every morning in the new place, definitely.” 

Harry looks back up at Louis, still shaking his head. He’s not sure what happens after this really - he assumes they’ll get that apartment, maybe make some music together if they’re lucky. He isn’t sure what he and Louis will be yet, but he knows that what Louis is offering him for now sounds like the easiest thing in the world. The rest will figure itself out. 

“I think I can manage. As long as you promise to tell me what a great cook I am, like, every day.”

Louis bites his lip and smiles. “Deal.”

“Deal.”

**3\. the x factor tour, first performance (pre-show)**

Louis has been oddly quiet since they arrived in Birmingham, fidgeting relentlessly the entire time they’re in the van on the way to the hotel and barely speaking a word to anyone. The first concert of the tour is tonight, in less than eight hours now, and Harry is starting to get a bit worried. He says as much when he and Louis toss their duffle bags onto the two queen sized beds in their hotel room later that morning. 

(They’ll only need one bed, but they didn’t feel like it was something they should let their crew know. Liam gives them a suspicious glance when they walk into their room together, to which Louis sticks his tongue out in response.) 

“Buzzing, I guess,” is all Louis says, with a tight smile and a shake of his head. 

Harry nods. “Just making sure.” 

“Gonna shower, I think.” Louis bends down to pick up his toiletries bag off of the floor, nodding towards the bathroom and leaving Harry sitting on the bed. When he comes back nearly half an hour later, his chest is littered with red splotches and a towel is hung low around his waist. There’s water dripping from the ends of his hair onto his shoulders and collarbones, some of it pooling there while the rest travels down Louis’ torso. 

“Feeling better?” Harry asks once Louis has changed into a pair of briefs and plops down on the bed beside him, shoving their bags to the floor. 

Louis hums, “A bit.” He props himself against the headboard and tosses his legs over Harry’s so that they’re tangled together. “Sorry I’ve been weird all day. I think I’m freaking out a little.”

And, well, that’s news to Harry. Louis has been like this once before, quiet and restless, and it was the day of their first kiss in the X Factor house. He’d spent his entire morning alone out on the balcony, only coming in for lunch because Zayn physically picked him up and dragged him inside. Louis had huffed and complained that he just “needed a fucking second alone”. He tells Harry later that he wasn’t scared or anything like that - he was just a nervous-wreck, apparently. Harry had found it adorable, Louis had found it utterly embarrassing. Right before Louis finally kissed him, while they were watching a movie in their bunk, he wouldn’t stop shaking his leg and tapping his fingers against his thigh. Harry remembers because he turned to ask Louis what the hell was the matter when Louis surged forward and kissed him like he couldn’t wait another second.

“I could tell,” Harry says, turning onto his side to face Louis. He props his head up on one hand, and raises an eyebrow. “Wouldn’t stop moving this morning. Or talk to anyone.”

“I’m excited for tonight, but I just--” Louis pauses, shaking his head. “Sorry, I’m being a right twat. ‘m freaking myself out, is all.”

“Do you need anything to help you calm down?” Harry asks with a smirk and waggle of his eyebrows - he’s mostly joking. He moves his other hand to reach out for Louis’ hip and casually plays with the waistband of Louis’ briefs, a tight black pair that Harry loves the most. 

“You’re the worst,” Louis says, groaning. He doesn’t think Harry’s the worst, not even a little bit. “That’s alright, love, though it’s tempting. Just had a bit of a lousy wank in the shower, I’m afraid.”

“Hey,” Harry whines, dragging out the last syllable. He pouts and pinches Louis’ hip, making the boy giggle. Louis knows that Harry loves getting him off, especially if it’s in the shower. Harry likes getting him off anywhere, if he’s honest, but the shower is always a fun challenge. 

“I know, baby, I know,” Louis says once he’s through with his laughing fit. “It took the edge off, kinda. Was thinking of you, if it helps.”

“Fair enough,” Harry agrees. 

Louis sinks further into the bed, letting his head hit the pillow. His hair is wet and their new hairstylist will kill them both if Louis’ got bedhead when they show up for hair and makeup, but. He looks cute like this, all pliant and warm skin after a shower. 

“It’s going to be a lot of fun, yeah?” Harry says, leaning down to kiss Louis’ forehead. 

“‘course,” Louis whispers. “I just can’t believe we’re fucking doing this. It’s, like, the beginning of something. God, listen to me.” Louis laughs, shoving a hand through his wet hair. Their stylist will definitely kill them, then. 

Louis is right, though, Harry thinks - It’s the beginning of something. It’s not like this is a huge tour or anything, even. It’s the same tour that the X Factor does every year after the season finishes, and it’s not like they’re headlining or playing their own gig. It’s leading to something bigger, something that they’ve earned. They did the show, and that was really great, but this is something different entirely. They have real fans of their own now, people that are tweeting them and asking when they’re making an album (soon) and telling them that they love them constantly. It’s been overwhelming and a bit of a shocking experience so far, with how quickly everything is moving. The only thing that has kept Harry grounded is Louis, really, along with the other boys. He and Louis have spent most of the break between the end of the show and now with each other, visiting their hometowns and sometimes meeting in the middle when they get particularly lonely. It’s been nice, but they both know that this is the start of something - probably different than whatever they could prepare themselves for. 

Harry starts rubbing a circle into the skin of Louis’ hip with his thumb. “You’re going to fucking smash it. We all are. This is going to be amazing, alright?” 

Louis nods, smiling at Harry, and he looks more relaxed than he has all day. Harry counts it as a victory. “Thanks, Haz.” 

“And plus, you haven’t even been a twat. Just nervous, babe, nobody blames you. Do you really think Niall isn’t pissing himself too?” 

Louis laughs brightly before he brings a hand up to cover his mouth and nods. “Probably. God, we should probably check on the boys. They’re probably just as bad as me.”

“No doubt.” Harry laughs. He shifts so that he’s face to face with Louis, shuffling closer so that his lips brush against Louis’ nose. “We’ve still got a little bit, Lou. Can we stay here until then?” 

“If you insist.” Louis kisses Harry on the lips sweetly before ducking his head and settling just under Harry’s chin. 

Louis starts humming one of their opening songs after a minute of silence, the vibrations of his lips buzzing against Harry’s neck. Harry closes his eyes and hums along with the melody to Louis’ harmony, closing his eyes and trying not to think about just how big tonight could be. 

When they get to the venue later that afternoon, the screams are so loud that they can hear the audience clear as anything from backstage. The boys gather in a circle just before going on, looking each other in the eye and smiling. They’re all on the same page - nervous and thrilled and not wanting to fuck this up. They put their arms around each other and huddle close, chanting something ridiculous and putting their hands in the middle of the circle. They feel like a proper band at the moment, and Harry doesn’t think he’ll forget this moment for a very, very long time.

**4\. the x factor tour, first live performance (post-show)**

“Off, get this off,” Louis mumbles against Harry’s mouth, tugging at the bottom of his shirt. 

They’re back in their hotel almost immediately after the gig ends, the five of them tumbling into a van and chattering the entire drive over. They did amazing, in Harry’s humble opinion, and he doesn’t think the show could’ve gone any better. They’re all on some kind of high right now, even better than anything they felt on the show, and Louis had been fidgeting in the van in an entirely _different_ way than he was this morning. Harry figured it out when Louis started tracing a finger along the inseam of his pant leg, getting dangerously close to Harry’s crotch and teasing relentlessly until their van stopped outside of their building. 

“Off, Harry, c’mon,” Louis says more impatiently now, pulling back from Harry’s mouth and letting his head rest against the wall. They’d barely made it three steps into their hotel room when Louis pulls Harry in by the collar of his shirt, kissing him so hard that Harry tripped over his own feet.

Harry struggles to oblige, pulling his shirt over his head and tossing it behind him onto the floor. He leans forward and starts kissing Louis’ neck, much to the delight of Louis, if his squeak of surprise is any indication. Louis squeezes at Harry’s hips and pulls him in closer, Harry groaning at the feeling when their hips press together.

“You looked so good up there tonight,” Louis says, his voice deliciously rough already. “Don’t know what I’m going to do with you.”

Harry bites down on Louis’ neck, sucking at the same spot until he knows it will leave a nice mark after this. He feels like every part of his body is buzzing, every touch of Louis’ fingertips making his skin feel inflamed. His head feels too heavy and his ears feel like they’re stuffed with cotton balls. Harry loves the feeling he gets after performing, and this is no different - he can’t seem to come down from his rush, maybe from the energy of this particular audience or maybe from the way Louis is biting at his lower lip. 

“Please,” Louis says against his jaw, pulling Harry’s hips against his own. Harry catches on quickly, rolling his hips forward to meet Louis as he moves in a similar motion. He raises a hand to tangle in Harry’s hair, pulling lightly when Harry starts moving his hips quicker. Louis is arching his back off of the wall and leaning his head against it, his mouth open in a silent gasp, and Harry wishes he could take a picture of Louis like this. He’s so gorgeous, better than Harry could even dream up. 

They’d changed at the venue after the show into sweatpants and t-shirts, which Harry is eternally grateful for at this moment. The fabric between their dicks is thin and soft, rubbing in just the right way when they move their hips in sync. Harry runs his hands down Louis’ body slowly, stopping when he gets to the back of his thighs and lifts Louis’ legs. He presses him into the wall with his own body, Louis immediately wrapping his legs around Harry’s waist.

Louis groans against Harry’s mouth at the new angle. “Yeah, babe, c’mon.”

Harry doesn’t need to be told twice, and he holds Louis up under his bum and starts moving his hips faster, their cocks sliding together perfectly now through their pants and making Harry’s eyes roll and his eyelashes flutter. It's all a bit frantic and overwhelming, like they've been apart for months or as if this is their first time getting off together. He shouldn’t be as into this as he is, and he definitely should be as close as he is already, but it’s Louis. Everything is intense with Louis. 

“Ah, shit,” Louis says quietly and then he’s moaning, these beautiful little sounds that Harry could listen to on repeat. Harry kisses him - it’s all wrong with too much teeth for a moment because they’re moving too much - and squeezes at his ass, sucking on his bottom lip. “Shit, I’m--. Harry--”

Harry can feel Louis stiffen underneath him, his body becoming heavier and his fingers digging harder into Harry’s shoulders. He’s cursing and moaning and it’s enough to send Harry over the edge on its own, nonetheless paired with the friction on his dick and the look on Louis’ face when he comes. It’s a lot. 

Harry stops moving forward when Louis whimpers and tries to shimmy up the wall, too sensitive now. Harry breathes heavily against Louis’ mouth, still holding him up, and he groans when Louis snakes a hand between them and into the front of Harry’s pants. 

“Come on, baby,” Louis whispers, and his voice sounds absolutely wrecked now. He struggles for a second to pull the waistband of Harry’s trackies down, but finally gets it down just enough to get a hand on Harry’s dick. “So pretty, love. Let go for me, yeah?” 

Harry tucks his face against Louis’ neck, palming at his arse frantically to keep himself from snapping his hips forward too roughly into Louis’ fist. He only needs a few strokes until he’s coming onto Louis’ hand and their stomachs, the buzzing in his ears louder than ever. 

“That’s it,” Louis coaxes while Harry shakes through it, swirling his thumb around the tip of Harry’s cock to catch the last of the mess. Harry breathes out harshly against Louis’ neck, collecting himself for a moment before he pulls back to look him in the eye. 

His arms feel weaker now but he keeps holding Louis up against the wall, their bodies pressed close together. He kisses him gently on the lips, breathing through his nose and letting himself come down slowly. He lets Louis drop to his own two feet after a minute, keeping his hands pressed into the small of his back to steady him. 

“Hi,” Louis says, kissing Harry’s cheek. “Sorry, I just couldn’t wait. I was going mad."

“Feeling’s mutual.” Harry nods, pinching Louis’ hip. He smiles in response - he seems content and sleepy now, his shoulders sagging and his eyes drooping slowly. 

Harry makes quick to shuck his trackies and pants off the rest of the way, helping Louis out of his own dirty ones after that. He leans over to the desk and grabs a few tissues, cleaning himself and Louis up while Louis leans against the wall and finishes catching his breath. 

“Sleep now?” Louis yawns. “We can shower in the morning.”

Harry smiles and nods. “Yeah, I’m knackered. Big night.”

“Big night, indeed.” Louis says, a new twinkle in his eye. He pushes at Harry’s hips until he starts backing up towards the bed, stopping when his knees hit the foot of the mattress. 

Harry hurries to get settled into bed, sliding under the covers and pulling Louis’ side down so that he can crawl in next to him. Once they’re laying in the dark next to each other, Harry feels like he’s finally on a little less of a high and more feeling his normal buzz that he gets when he’s around Louis. 

“You were so good tonight,” Louis says, kissing him. “In every way. I love performing with you, it’s sick. We were amazing, god. Pretty damn good just a bit ago, too,” he says, smirking. 

Harry rolls his eyes, but he’s smiling too. “Not too shabby yourself, Tomlinson.” 

“Love you.”

“Mm,” Harry hums happily, letting his lips rest against Louis’ forehead. “Love you too.”

 **5\. the up all night tour, last concert (pre-show)**

It’s been a very long six months, Harry thinks. It feels like they’ve been touring for a year now, and they quite possibly have - he’s lost all track of time. It’s been crazy and incredible and tiring all at once, not to mention that it has been, hands down, one of the best experiences he’s ever had in his entire life. He’s only eighteen years old, christ, and he’s already finishing a headlining tour with his best mates. It’s unreal. Even as they’re getting ready to go on stage the night of their last show of the tour, he can’t believe it’s happening. 

“Zayn, did you just spray that shit cologne?” Louis asks loudly, clutching his chest. “Oh my god, I’m going to die.”

“Fuck off, Lou,” Zayn says, laughing. He sprays the cologne again in Louis’ direction, making Louis cough dramatically. 

Niall is scrolling through his phone, probably tweeting about tonight’s show, laying horizontal on the couch in the dressing room. Liam is sat on the arm of the couch, his feet propped up on a chair in front of him and he’s tapping on his thighs with two of Lou’s makeup brushes. Zayn isn’t doing much of anything, really, since he was the first to be done with hair and makeup and he’s exhausted all of his outlets. Lou always starts with him first, since his hair usually takes the longest, and he gets to sit and chill for the rest of the time waiting. 

Louis is just finishing up in the chair, the last of the boys to be primped, when Niall starts playing something on his phone. 

“Sick,” he mumbles to himself, sitting up and propping himself against the back of the couch. “Look at this lads.” 

They all crowd around the back of the couch, leaning over to get a good look at Niall’s phone. It’s a video of some sort, and one of their songs that they performed on the X Factor is playing as the video comes to life. It’s an ‘end of tour video’, Harry assumes, because there are a ton of pictures flashing on the screen and even some video clips - Louis jumping clear over Harry in a game of on-stage leapfrog, Niall dancing like he’s had one too many to drink, Harry changing the lyrics to (multiple) songs. They all laugh at their favorite moments, nudging each other and mumbling “oh fuck, forgot about that” every few clips. 

The video is only a few minutes long and finishes on a black screen that reads “hold onto the feeling and don’t let it go”, a lyric from their song, with a few emoticon hearts. When it ends, Niall turns off his phone and stands up from his spot on the couch. 

“This is insane,” he says, and he’s grinning like mad. 

“Where did you get that?” Liam asks, gesturing towards Niall’s phone. “The video, I mean.”

Louis scoffs. “He made it, of course.”

Niall rolls his eyes while the other four boys laugh. “A fan sent it to me on twitter. Incredible, that.”

“That was so cool. God, sometimes I forget that we even _did_ those things.” Zayn scratches at the back of his neck, looking between the boys. 

Now that hair and makeup is finished, their stylists have filed out of the dressing room slowly, leaving them to relax for a few minutes before heading out on stage. They all flop onto the two couches facing each other in the room, pulling out their phones and scrolling mindlessly in silence. Louis is tucked against Harry’s side, showing him tweets that he pulls up on his phone and laughing into his shoulder. 

“I can’t believe this is the last one, fuck,” Louis says suddenly, shoving his face against Harry’s arm and groaning. “This has been mental.”

“I know, like,” Niall says, shaking his head with a smile on his face. They’re all buzzing, feeling the same level of excitement and disappointment. “I don’t want it to end, if I’m being honest.”

Zayn claps a hand on Niall’s back. “Ni, you right sap.” 

“I just can’t believe we get to keep doing this. Like we’ll do this again, yeah?” Niall looks at each of them, smiling when they all start to nod. 

“‘course, yeah,” Harry says quietly, putting a hand on Louis’ thigh. Louis looks up at him and smiles softly before looking back to Niall and adding a “hell yeah” for good measure. 

They sit in silence for a moment, the screams of the audience serving as background noise in their small dressing room. Harry didn’t think he’d have a moment in his life where his band’s sold-out concert’s crowd served as background noise for anything. He wants to do this forever, with these boys, if they’ll let him.

“Boys?” Paul sticks his head in the door a moment later, raising his eyebrows. “‘s showtime.” His accent is thick and he’s smiling like an idiot, and Harry laughs. It’s always amusing to see a big, burly man like Paul get a dopey smile on his face just because he’s proud of them. 

“Let’s go,” Liam says, jumping up and dusting off his shirt. “Last one.”

They walk out into their waiting area just off the side of the stage, and the sound of the speakers along with the fans is overwhelming now. They’re all putting in their in-ears, Liam grabbing his microphone from one of the assistants and passing Niall his own. Harry can barely think, the noise and the excitement in his head much too loud, and he barely notices when Louis is dragging him off to the side of the room.

It’s just a few steps away from everyone else, but the lighting is a bit more shit and they seem to have a bit of a shield when they’re pressed up against the wall. Louis spins Harry so that his back is flat against the wall, and Harry lets out a huff of air in surprise. 

Louis wastes no time and crowds into him, kissing him quickly once before pulling back just enough to look at him. “Are you ready?”

Harry giggles. “Yeah, are you?”

“Fuck, yeah. Can’t believe we did this together.” Louis kisses him again, biting on Harry’s lower lip and making him suck in a breath. He wants to just stay right here and kiss Louis for the rest of the night, if he’s being honest. 

“Always, right?” Louis asks once they break apart. Harry nods happily, biting the inside of his lip. 

“C’mon, the two of you,” Paul hollers from somewhere behind Louis, and Harry sighs. 

“Last one.” Louis smiles brightly up at Harry, putting a hand on his chest. 

Harry nods again, smiling like he’s just won the lottery. Maybe he has. 

“Last one.”

**6\. the up all night tour, last concert (post-show)**

Harry is having a very hard time deciding between the burger and fries and the stuffed chicken. He’s having an even harder time deciding when Louis is kissing up and down the line of his neck. 

“Louis,” Harry whines. “I have to order. Focus.”

Louis laughs against his skin. “You want the ravioli, babe. You just think you want the burger, but you’ll just end up taking a bite of my chicken, and then sighing for an hour because you didn’t get the pasta.”

Now that Louis mentions it, pasta sounds incredible. 

 

“True,” Harry says with a deciding nod. He leans off of the floor and reaches as far as he can, knocking the hotel’s phone close enough on the end table to grab the receiver. 

They tumbled into their room nearly two hours ago, taking a shower together quickly (Harry only pouted for, like, five minutes when Louis said it was _just_ washing up this time). Harry had stayed in the bathroom a little longer than Louis, making sure his curls set right before washing his face and brushing his teeth. When he walked out into their room again, the blankets were pulled off of the beds and onto the floor, Louis grinning happily at the mess he’d created. He throws a couple of pillow down too, telling Harry that he’s made them a “little nest”, direct quote. Harry isn’t sure what was wrong with the king size bed ten feet away, but his boyfriend is cute and he’s not one to argue with his plans. 

So, they’ve been cuddled up on the floor for a couple of hours now, mainly rehashing the night’s events with face-splitting grins on their faces. They kiss a bit, too, lazily for a while before they end up quietly talking against each other’s mouths. They keep remembering things that happened tonight, little moments that made them laugh or feel like the luckiest people on the planet, and get caught up in the conversation, losing track of time. 

By the time midnight rolls around, they’re starving. Harry wanted room service, doesn’t even want to move for the rest of the night, really. Louis obliged, of course, winking and saying he’s buying. He’s really quite cute, is the thing. 

Their food had come pretty quickly, luckily for them, and they start eating immediately, barely talking between bites. “I made a good choice with the pasta,” Harry says, humming around a bite of ravioli.

Louis rolls his eyes. “Oh, yeah, Harold, great choice. Not sure where you even got the idea.”

Harry shrugs and takes another bite off of his fork with a smirk, and Louis shoves at his shoulder. They’re sitting up in their pile of blankets now, putting throw pillows from the couch on their laps with their trays balanced carefully on top. Louis offers bites of his chicken to Harry like he always does, never minds sharing, and Harry is full three quarters of the way into his meal. 

“Holy shit,” Louis says, setting his tray off to the side. “I’m going to explode. Like, watch out. I don’t want to get any of my insides on you.” 

Harry doesn’t even think he would mind. “Same. My eyes were bigger than my stomach.”

They both groan, laughing when they do it in unison (they always seem to do that). Harry sets his tray on top of Louis, picking them both up and putting them onto the desk. He flops back down onto the blankets, resting his head on the pillow and opening his arms in invitation. 

“Don’t squeeze me too hard,” Louis says, shimmying himself down next to Harry and draping an arm over his torso.

“I feel like I’ve been awake for days,” Harry says with a sigh.

“We get to go home soon, at least. Spend a little time at the apartment before leaving again this time.”

“True, yeah. I miss my bed.”

Louis clears his throat. Right.

“Our bed.” 

“Thank you,” Louis says with a pinch to Harry’s nipple. “Anyway, I know, shit. I’m absolutely buzzing about that.”

Harry nods, his chin rubbing against the top of Louis’ hair. Louis turns his face and lightly kisses Harry’s bare chest, and Harry hums. “We can start looking at houses, if--. Uh, if you want.”

Louis kisses at Harry’s chest again a few times before responding. “We’ve already been looking, love.” 

“I know, but--.” Harry shrugs, shifting Louis’ head momentarily. “We can start deciding, I guess. Before things get even crazier.”

“I’d like that, yeah.” 

Harry can feel Louis smiling against his chest. They talk about this a lot, the future and all that. Harry feels like they went from nothing to everything within the first couple of weeks, so it doesn’t scare him or seem strange to talk about this with Louis. Sometimes it feels like he should have went ahead and asked “So, when do you want to get married?” upon first meeting him - which is ludicrous yet true. 

They’re silent for a minute, listening to each other breathe. Harry lifts a hand to Louis’ head, rubbing at his scalp. “I really liked that one we looked at--”

“With a lot of bedrooms?” Louis asks. “The basement in that one was sick, babe. I loved it.”

“Yes, the one with a lot of bedrooms.” Harry laughs. “It might be too big for us, though.”

“Well--” Louis starts, cutting himself off and clearing his throat. 

Harry smiles against Louis’ hair. “What?”

He knows what Louis will say, because they’ve talked about it before. They’re so young - they feel much older sometimes with this life that they’ve been thrown into - but they already know what they want for their future. Hell, maybe it won’t work out that way, Harry knows that. He also knows that he never thought he’d be this happily settled down at eighteen years old, but. Here he is.

Louis’s face is pressed against Harry’s chest, and Harry barely hears him when he responds. “I’m sure eventually it won’t be too big for--. You know, won’t be just us. It’ll be just right, then.”

Harry pulls Louis closer to him, making the boy groan. “I told you, babe, I’ll throw up on you. I don’t care how much I love you.”

“Shut up.” Harry laughs. “And yeah, I’m sure you’re right. We can fill the house up.”

Louis giggles against Harry’s skin, biting down lightly. “Oh, sorry, I didn’t realize we were going to have a full house.”

“You didn’t?”

“I mean, how many were you thinking, exactly?” Louis asks, picking his head up from Harry’s chest and raising an eyebrow at him. 

“Loads,” Harry deadpans. “Like, I want a football team, Tomlinson.”

“That wouldn’t be too bad,” Louis says, resting his chin on his hands. “Then I could play footie with someone who wasn’t bloody awful.” 

Harry tosses his head back on the pillow and laughs, putting a hand over his mouth. “Ooh, cut me deep.” 

Louis yawns then, rubbing at his eyes and plopping his head back down on Harry’s chest. 

“‘m so fucking tired. Can we sleep, maybe?”

“Yeah, alright.” Harry kisses Louis’ head and goes to move, but Louis whines and holds tighter to Harry’s torso. 

“Can we just stay here? Don’t wanna move.”

Harry thinks for a moment, but quickly settles back down and pulls one of the extra blankets over their bodies. 

“We’re going to be sore tomorrow, you know,” he adds, should Louis change his mind. Louis is always fussy in the mornings, and he’s particularly irritated when he doesn’t get a good night’s sleep. Harry doesn’t mind - mostly because Louis is an absolute brat to everyone besides him. 

Louis’ breathing is evening out slowly already and he shrugs lazily. “Don’t care. Love you.”

Harry huffs out a laugh and rolls his eyes. “Love you too, Lou.”

**7\. madison square garden (pre-show)**

This is bigger than anything they’ve even come close to doing before. It’s fucking _Madison Square Garden_ \- their _sold out show_ at Madison Square Garden, to be exact. Harry’s going insane with energy, buzzing around the room like he’s about to jump out of his skin. 

“Babe!” Louis calls from the other side of them room. “C’mere!” 

Harry walks over slowly, taking another bite of his banana and tossing the remaining peel in the trashcan. Louis is sitting on a couch and he’s now waving Harry over. “Look.”

“Your mum sent a video.” Louis opens the video from his text messages, patting the seat next to him so that Harry will sit. He does, leaning in close to Louis and watching the phone. “Did you get it? Oh, it’s a group message to the both of us. Whatever, watch with me.”

“Hi babes!” Anne’s voice comes on the screen. She’s in New York, staying at a fancy hotel with Robin for the week. Harry isn’t sure where she is in the video - maybe in a cab or a horse carriage of some sort, she did mention wanting to do that earlier.

“I’m about to head to the Garden! Does everyone call it that?” She continues and Louis laughs into his hand and elbows Harry in the side. “Anyway, just wanted to say I’m so proud of the two of you! All of you! Send the other boys my love, too. I just have a bit of a favorite. Two favorites, maybe.” She winks at her phone, laughing. She’s so lovely, Harry thinks. “I’ll see you guys soon! Love you!” 

Louis closes the video and texts Anne back, thanks mum love you !! see you soon :) 

“That was sweet,” Louis says, leaning over to give Harry a kiss. “How are you feeling?”

“Like I’m going to throw up.”

“Oh c’mon, you haven’t done that since we were on the show!” 

Harry shakes his head. “I know, I won’t be sick or anything. I’m just, like, so excited I could throw up.”

“Well.” Louis laughs. “I guess I understand then.” 

Harry sinks down further into the couch, resting his head on Louis’ shoulders. They have to go into hair and makeup in ten minutes. Zayn is already finishing up, and Perrie just arrived so she’s sat with him. The other girls with them are here somewhere running around, maybe they’re still seeing the city. Harry doesn’t know what to expect for tonight, honestly, but he knows that it’s going to be the best. It’s been a long few weeks, and he hasn’t slept very much - his mind always moving too quickly for him to catch up, it seems. He needs this, needs to get out there in front of the crowd (such a huge crowd, fuck) and feel that high of performing again. All of them do, if he’s being honest. 

“I don’t even feel nervous, you know.” Louis says, playing with a loose string on Harry’s shirt.

“Well, duh,” Harry deadpans. 

“Hey, I get nervous all the time!” Harry looks over at him with a disbelieving face and Louis laughs. “Okay, not all the time. But I do! I’m just used to this now, maybe. But this is, like, huge. Massive.”

Harry nods. “I know. Our whole families are here. ‘s nerve wracking. Think my mom would have brought the entire town if she could’ve.”

“My mum honestly asked if my ninety year old nan should come. I was like, well, no probably not mum.” Louis laughs fondly. “I’m glad they’re so proud. We’ve come a long way, yeah?”

“The longest.”

Harry shoves his face against Louis’ neck, kissing at the skin where his neck and shoulder meet. 

“And Ed’s here,” Louis adds. “That’s gonna be sick. He’s coming to the party, too, right?”

“Ed? I think so, yeah. Should be a sick time.”

Louis stiffens only slightly, brief enough that Harry wouldn’t catch it if he didn’t know Louis’ body so well. “About that party. ‘m sorry in advance if I act a bit weird? Like.”

Harry kisses his way up Louis’ neck. He wonders where the other boys are, where anybody is. Surely they’re all bustling around getting ready, setting up the stage and whatnot. The room Harry and Louis are in is mildly secluded, just a couch and flat-screen television with a bowl of fruit on the table. Harry had been looking out the window - he isn’t even sure what floor they’re on, but the view is gorgeous. 

“It’s alright, Lou,” Harry responds. “I get it.”

Louis nods once tightly before clapping his hands together. “Ready to head to our death and let Louise torture our hair?”

Harry groans, tugging at the ends of his hair. “Nooo.”

“Come on, babe.” Louis stands and pulls at Harry’s arms, bringing him to a standing position before kissing him. “Got quite a big show to put on later. Wouldn’t want you to look like shit.”

“Thanks,” Harry says, scoffing.

“Not that you ever do, of course.” Louis smiles sweetly, nipping at Harry’s chin. 

“Oh, of course.” Harry pinches Louis’ sides, making him laugh. He wants to stay in this room for another hour prepping himself for this - he feels like he’s never going to be ready for a show this huge.

“Can’t believe we’re about to do this,” Louis says once they’ve calmed down, and it comes out like a whisper. 

“Yeah,” Harry breathes. “Neither can I.”

**8\. madison square garden (post-show)**

Harry has gone and lost Louis. 

They’ve been at the afterparty for barely an hour when Harry stops hearing him from across the room and gets suspicious - he can always pick out Louis’ voice in a crowd. When he casually walks over that way, only to see Niall of course, his boyfriend is nowhere to be found. Niall is there, offering nothing but a shrug when Harry asks if he’s seen him.

“Maybe check the loo?” Niall suggests, chugging down the rest of his pint and giving a delighted little squeak after he swallows. Harry claps him on the shoulder and leaves him to it, heading in the direction of the bathroom. 

There must be ten people in the tiny, two stall bathroom. They all holler when Harry walks in, congratulating him on tonight and telling him how great of a show it was. Harry thinks they’re right - it was a fucking amazing show. The boys are still trying to wrap their mind around the fact that they just did that, that they played Madison Square Garden, but it isn’t an easy task. He doesn’t think they’ll ever get over it. 

“Louis?” Harry says once he’s exited the bathroom what feels like half an hour later. He can see a figure that looks strikingly like Louis’ a ways away, leaning against a door frame in a back corner of the lobby area. There are people walking past him distractedly, and as Harry gets closer he realizes that it is Louis, playing on his phone with his brows furrowed.

“Babe.” Harry whispers once he’s approached him, making sure to keep his distance enough while still being able to be heard.

Louis looks up quickly at the sound of Harry’s voice, his face seeming to melt in a way that Harry’s usually does when he hears Louis’ voice over chaos. “Hi, Haz.”

The people around them are filtering out, most of them paying them no attention. Harry has no idea who some of them are, probably people with their crew that he hasn’t been introduced to yet. “What are you doing out here? Not enjoying the party?”

Louis shrugs, looking back down at his phone again.

“Hey,” Harry says, kicking his foot out against Louis’ shin lightly. “Talk to me.”

Louis sighs, pocketing his phone. “I don’t know, like--. ‘m having fun, yeah, it’s loads of fun. I just wish some things weren’t making me want to fucking scream,” he says all in a rush, laughing nervously once he’s finished.

“Mm,” Harry hums. He nods once in understanding before looking around. “Alright, come with me then.”

“What? Why?” 

“Well, we can’t exactly talk about this here,” Harry says, rolling his eyes. “Not properly, like.”

Louis nods his head and purses his lips. “Bathroom?”

“‘s packed. I just went in there looking for you.”

Louis looks towards a small hallway that seems to lead to nothing in particular, just three doors on each side of it and a few pieces of artwork at the end. He looks at Harry pointedly before looking back at the hallway. “The second door on the right. Come in five minutes.”

Harry nods, turning on his heels and pulling out his phone, trying to look casual when Louis walks away. He plays a game on his phone for a minute before looking through twitter, gauging everyone’s reactions to tonight’s show. He apparently gets lost in that, because Louis sends him a less than pleased emoji a few minutes later. 

When he opens the door that he was told, he walks in quickly so that nobody can see him from the lobby longer than they need to. He runs directly into something soft and fluffy, and he swats at it eagerly. It’s a winter jacket, not a giant animal like he first assumed, so. That’s that. 

Louis giggles from somewhere close, and then there’s a hand on Harry’s hip, guiding him. This isn’t a room at all, actually - it’s a fucking closet. Bigger than a standard but smaller than a walk-in, like what they’ve got at home. There’s enough room for him to stand in front of Louis, but that’s about it. 

“Great place you’ve got here,” Harry deadpans once he’s settled. 

Louis shoves at his shoulder. “Oh, shut up, you. ‘s private, innit?”

“A bit, yeah.” One corner of Harry’s mouth turns up in a smile. He learns forward, not that it’s very far in the small space, and kisses Louis like he’s wanted to do for the last couple of hours. He lets it linger for a moment longer than usual and when he pulls back, Louis’ still got his eyes closed. “‘m sorry this is all so shit. I wish I could--”

Louis opens his eyes and shakes his head, his brow knitting together again. “No, baby, hey. It’s not our fault, y’know? And it’s not total shit, I mean we did just play fucking Madison Square Garden.” He laughs and shrugs one shoulder. “I just wish I could stop thinking about anything that’s not that, shit. It’s probably written all over my face.”

“It is.” Harry giggles, biting his lip. Louis has never been one to be able to hide his feelings. The last week or so have been a lot for the two of them, to say the least. Busier than usual with plans and outings that neither one of them are particularly fond of - they’d rather just be at home with each other, gearing up for the biggest show of their lives, instead of parading for cameras. They tumble into bed each night with a long sigh, kissing until they fall asleep and complaining, usually. It helps. 

“Shit,” Louis says, huffing out a laugh. “I just hate it. I don’t want anything to ruin tonight.” 

Harry shakes his head. “Won’t.”

Louis runs a hand over his face and lets out a breath. “I know I’m being a twat about this.  
Told you I ‘d get weird.”

Harry kisses him again, putting his hands at Louis’ waist. He can hear people outside, quiet murmurs that buzz in his ears. “Love you, Lou. Always, you know?”

“I know that,” Louis mumbles. “That’s not a question.” 

“Good,” Harry says definitively. “Then we’re going to stop being grumpy as fuck and start enjoying our night as veterans of Madison Square Garden--”

“Did you just say grumpy as fuck? Oh my god, it’s like hearing a child curse--”

“Because nothing else matters, yeah?” Harry looks at Louis waiting for an answer. When he nods, Harry smiles brightly. “Okay. Do you want to go back out there?”

Louis hums thoughtfully. “Kinda wanna have a proper snog in this closet, if I’m being honest.” 

Harry rolls his eyes and laughs. Louis is the worst. “You’re the worst.” 

Louis goes to protest, an indignant look on his face, but Harry cuts him off with a kiss. It’s a bit sloppy at first, the small amounts of alcohol in Harry’s system making his lips numb and harder to control. Louis gets it though, grabbing at the back of Harry’s neck and holding their mouths together, licking out against Harry’s bottom lip before taking it between his teeth. 

Harry pushes in closer, nowhere for the two of them to go, really. Louis is pressed up against a rack of winter coats, one of the fuzzier ones tickling the backs of Harry’s hands when he moves them to the small of Louis’ back. He giggles against Louis’ mouth, which quickly turns into a cut off whimper when Louis puts both hands on Harry’s bum and squeezes. Louis loves his bum, Harry knows - it’s nothing compared to Louis’ own, and “never gets any proper recognition,” Louis says. A tiny bum, but something to grab at nonetheless.

“Wanted to kiss you all night,” Louis murmurs against Harry’s mouth between slow kisses. “On stage, in the car over, at the party. Wish I could tell everyone here to fuck off.” 

“Lou--” Harry pushes his arse back into Louis’ hands, the best he can in the small space. He’s half hard already - just from a bit of kissing, christ - and he’d really rather not go back to the party with an obvious bulge in his pants. These pants leave no room for being stealthy, after all.

“What do you want, love?” Louis asks into his ear, nibbling on the edge of it when Harry doesn’t respond. He trails his hand down Harry’s front , tweaking one of his nipples through his shirt and making Harry groan quietly. “Ah, you have to be quiet.” 

“Mhm,” Harry nods. 

He puts a hand against the side of Louis’ face and kisses him desperately. He’s missed him tonight, and it’s only been a couple of hours. They can be in the same room for an entire day, sitting right next to each other, and Harry would still be missing him. It just isn’t the same when he can’t touch him the way he wants to, can’t have it written all over his face that he’s in love with this boy. It’s like he’s missed his lips on his, as if he’s been deprived for days. 

Louis’s hand travels further down his torso, stopping when he reaches the top of Harry’s jeans. Harry expects him to unbutton them, but instead he just pushes the heel of his palm against the growing bulge in Harry’s trousers. Harry pushes his arse back again, earning another squeeze of Louis’ hand - only one of them now, which is enough. Louis is rocking his hand back and forth against Harry’s dick, using his fingers to massage lightly. Harry’s kissing him in the way that he knows Louis’ likes - a bit sloppy and using a lot of tongue, sucking on Louis’ tongue and biting at his lower lip. 

Harry whines when Louis moves his hand to unbutton his jeans and Louis tuts. “Uh uh, love. You can’t let anyone know we’re in here, right. Gotta be quiet, okay?” 

Harry nods frantically, tracing his tongue against Louis’ jaw before starting to kiss at his neck. Louis’ skin is warm underneath Harry’s mouth, and he can feel it every time Louis swallows. He scrapes his teeth against his skin, biting down and licking at the same spot before pulling off to blow on it lightly. It drives Louis mad, he knows. That’s confirmed when Louis groans quietly, laughing a bit at the end. 

“Cheeky,” Louis says. “Everyone will think someone else did that, won’t they? But it was you. You gave me it.” 

“Always,” Harry says, not sure that it’s even a real response. 

“Only you,” Louis says, understanding what Harry means. He’s working at the zipper of Harry jeans now, grunting when he can still barely get a hand inside. “These fucking jeans, god, babe. ‘s like you’re on display for everyone. Painted them on.” 

Harry groans against Louis’ neck and shakes his head. He’ll rip the jeans off if he bloody has to, anything if Louis will just get a hand on his dick. 

Louis finally puts both hands at Harry’s hips, shoving the jeans down just enough to get past his dick. Harry can’t move his legs - not that he could go anywhere or move regardless - and his dick is poking out obscenely now in his briefs. Louis struggles to get a hand between them again, the closeness of their bodies making this difficult and amazing at the same time. 

“I could make you come right here in your briefs, couldn’t I?” Louis says quietly against Harry’s mouth. “Like I always did when we were in The X Factor house. Could let everyone at the party know what you’ve been doing, that you couldn’t wait to get home.”

Harry whimpers, biting his bottom lip. Louis has always been so good at this, at getting him completely riled up just by talking so that by the time he works him over with his hand, he’s pliant and so close already. It’s a gift Louis has, really. 

“Quiet, baby.” Louis says, stroking Harry through his briefs. Harry didn’t realize he was making any sound, but he sucks in his lower lip and nods.

Louis toys with the top of Harry’s waistband, pulling it down enough to get a hand on Harry’s dick, finally. Harry lets out a ragged breath, pushing his hips forward slightly against Louis’ hand. 

Normally Louis would protest, holding Harry’s hips still and telling him not to move, but this time Louis wraps a loose hand around Harry’s cock and strokes him slowly. He uses his other hand to pull at Harry’s hip, whispering, “Come on, love.”

Harry starts rocking his hips slowly - their bodies are pressed together so that there isn’t much movement that Harry is allotted, but it’s enough. Louis’ fist slides over Harry’s dick nicely, especially after he brings it to Harry’s mouth and tells him to get it wet. Harry licks over Louis’ fingers and palm quickly, desperate for his hand to be on him again. He feels like a thirteen year old in the closet of a house party, meeting this boy for the first time. 

“Better,” Louis says once the slick of his hand helps the movement on Harry’s dick. Harry is pumping his hips forward a bit quicker now, Louis meeting them with his hand in a perfect rhythm. He’s applying pressure at just the right moments, making Harry bite at his lip so hard that he thinks he might be breaking skin. 

“I can’t wait to get you back to the room,” Louis says suddenly just as Harry’s almost there. He’s moving forward in quick bursts now, his hips barely moving but the way Louis’ hand is moving on his cock is making his eyes roll back in his head. Louis is so good with his hands, the best, actually. 

“Can’t wait to fuck you properly,” he whispers into Harry’s ear, and that’s it, really. 

“Ah--” Harry starts to moan, and Louis makes quick to kiss him. Harry spills into Louis’ hand for what feels like forever, Louis cupping his hand around the head of his dick in an attempt to catch all of it. “Fuck, Lou.”

Louis kisses his lips lightly three times before pulling back and looking at his face. He laughs brightly, biting his lip. “God, Harry. ‘s like you just got off in a coat closet of something.” 

Harry nips at his nose, smiling. “Shut up, you arse.” 

Louis pulls his hand away from Harry’s dick slowly, careful not to let anything drip from his hand. He looks around for a moment, perplexed, before seeming to make a decision. He gathers a jacket from behind him in one hand, pulling it forward so that he can wipe the mess of his other hand on the back of it. 

“Louis Tomlinson,” Harry whispers, but he’s laughing. 

“Well it’s not my fault that _somebody_ couldn’t wait.”

Harry deadpans, “You’re joking.”

Louis winks as he finishes cleaning Harry off with the same jacket. He tucks it away amongst the rest of the jackets and shrugs. “It’ll dry.” 

“You’re insufferable.” Harry shakes his head, tucking himself back into his pants and zipping his jeans again.

“Honestly, I think that’s one of our people’s jackets. I’ll just take it with me and wash it. Or buy another one, whatever.” Louis kisses Harry’s cheek. “You ready now?”

“You alright?”

“Yeah, ‘course. Got you, haven’t I?”

“Sappy.” Harry rolls his eyes, blushing. “Always.” 

Louis pinches Harry’s hip, kissing his jaw and cheeks and mouth before pulling back. “Always, yeah.” 

**9\. the where we are tour, first concert (pre-show)**

Harry can’t find his headscarf anywhere. He’s tossing things to the side in a rush, mumbling swears to himself and huffing. He’s got the new one, sure, but he wants to wear the one Louis got for him. He’s not picky, usually, but tonight Harry wants to look his best. 

He wants to look his best for nearly 40,000 people, to be exact. Christ. 

“Harry, come on,” Liam whines from the door frame, propping himself up against it casually and smirking at Harry. “Just put it up in a ponytail.” 

Harry rolls his eyes. Liam doesn’t get it. “I’ll find it, just--. Give me one more minute.” 

Liam sighs and turns on his heels, walking away from the dressing room and heading towards where they other boys are stood in a circle. They’re nearly ready to go on stage now, the crowd absolutely deafening outside already. This is their first stadium concert - an unreal experience already and none of them have even stepped foot on stage - and Harry just wants it to be perfect. 

“Looking for this, babe?” Louis asks, taking Liam’s spot after Harry turns his back to the door. Harry spins around quickly, a grin already making its way onto his face. He loves Louis quite a lot, really. 

“Yesss,” Harry says quietly, his eyes zoning in on the headscarf in Louis’ hands - it’s the one he was looking for, and he he isn’t even sure how Louis knew he wanted it. 

“Thanks, Louis, you’re the love of my life and I don’t know what I would do without a man like you,” Louis deadpans when Harry makes grabby hands at the scarf. He holds the scarf high above his head, smirking at Harry like he’s won. 

Harry gives Louis an unimpressed glare before reaching up easily and grabbing his scarf. Louis scoffs indignantly before laughing. “Right, forgot you were a giant. Unfair advantage.” 

“Thank you, babe,” Harry says, leaning forward and kissing Louis on the lips. “You’re the best.”

“I know.” Louis smiles at Harry before turning and walking out of the room, his hips swaying in a hypnotizing motion. “C’mon, Styles, we haven’t got all day.”

It’s been four years, four fucking years, and Harry still wants to be touching Louis constantly - he feels like he needs to be touching Louis to ground himself most of the time. His body is sinful, in Harry’s defense. He can’t really be expected to focus under these circumstances. 

He turns to the mirror quickly, throwing the headscarf on his head and wrapping it tight, fixing his hair so it’s fluffy and curly, some of the longer strands poking out from underneath the accessory. He nods at himself once in the mirror, going through his usual pep-talk in his head, before leaving the dressing room and joining the rest of the boys. The atmosphere in the open space of side stage is almost palpable, Harry thinks. He can feel each one of them buzzing, even if he can barely hear anything beyond the blood rushing in his ears. He hasn’t felt nervous in so long - not since the first show of their last tour, he thinks. This is something entirely new, though. It’s been a while since something was brand new for them, and this is terrifying. 

“Can you believe this?” Niall shouts over the noise, elbowing Zayn in the side. Zayn lets out an _oof_ and punches Niall in the arm. 

“I really can’t,” Louis shakes his head. “‘s gonna be fucking sick.”

There are cameras here somewhere, Harry knows. He can’t lean over and kiss Louis the way he wants to, can’t wrap his arms around him and carry him onto stage like he probably would under different circumstances. He settles for bumping his hip against Louis’, smiling subtly. 

“This is it, lads,” Liam says, bouncing up and down. “Holy shit.”

Harry opens his arms wide, gesturing for everyone to come close. “Alright, get in.”

Louis tucks against his side easily and fits himself under Harry’s arm. Harry squeezes his shoulder once before reaching past him and resting a hand on Liam. The other boys crowd around, their heads nearly knocking together. 

“If anyone makes fun of me for this later, I’ll fucking kill you,” Zayn says suddenly, before continuing all in one breath, “I love you guys and I don’t know where I’d be without the lot of you. This is amazing, jesus, and I’m so glad I’m doing it with you.” 

Harry doesn’t tear up, he just doesn’t. He feels overwhelmed, is all, like they’re starting back at square one and this is their first ever concert and none of them know what to expect. He isn’t sure why - they’ve performed loads of times. This is bigger, something huge that none of them ever expected when they auditioned for The X Factor, and it’s just--. It’s a lot. 

“We’re getting proper soppy, shit,” Louis laughs. “This is so--. Fuck.”

Harry pulls the boys in closer, Louis pressing in more tightly next to his side. Harry turns his head and places a light kiss on Louis’ temple. Louis smiles at him before turning back to the group. 

“All in, yeah?” Louis puts his hand in the middle of the circle, glancing between each of the boys. 

“Yeah, bro,” Niall says, and Harry thinks his face is going to absolutely split in half. He’s grinning so wide, it can’t possibly feel good. It’s contagious, making Harry smile back at him when he puts his hand in. 

They’re all standing there with their hands in a circle, looking at each other like they’re back in a venue three of four years ago, waiting to perform for judges. Harry’s never felt happier in his entire life. 

The five of them do their normal pre-show chant, making everyone in the room laugh and clap with them once they’ve finished. Louis turns to Harry and tucks his face against his chest, biting lightly at his shirt before pulling back. “Can’t believe this.”

“You ready to start a world tour again?” Harry asks, smirking. 

Touring is bittersweet for them, at times. They miss the house they’ve built for themselves, their own bed, their families. They miss being able to be as sickening and showy as they normally would be, and it gets hard sometimes, with all of the extra shit. But the rewards are so good, seeing the arenas - stadiums, now - packed with people, singing these songs back to them for the first time. Doing this together, though, that’s one major bonus.

“Think so, yeah.” Louis reaches up a hand and tugs at one of Harry’s unruly curls. “You ready to cut this yet?”

“Nope,” Harry says with a smile, popping the p. “What about you?”

Louis shakes his hair out, pushing it back in the quiff Lou has fixed it in. “Never, Styles.” 

Harry rolls his eyes. “‘s a good thing you look so hot, then, I suppose.” 

“Mmm, that is lucky isn’t it.” Louis winks. He does look damn good, Harry thinks. His body is fit and thick at the same time, perfectly toned from training with his football team (he’s a proper football player now - Harry likes to remind him, and everyone, often), and he looks happier than ever. He’s glowing, his smile barely leaving his face the entire time they prepared for tonight. 

“Come here then, “ Harry says, nodding towards their dressing room. It’s their thing, always, to have a private moment for just the two of them before going on stage. 

Louis follows closely behind Harry, telling the boys they’ll be right back. Niall makes some comment about cleaning up their jeans before going out there (that was _one_ time and entirely Louis’ fault, thank you) which earns him a very friendly finger from Louis. 

Harry pulls Louis the rest of the way into the dressing room, making him yelp in surprise. He wraps his arms around his waist, tucking his nose against his hair. 

“Don’t be weird, Harry, stop sniffing my hair,” Louis says, swatting at Harry’s arms. He’s laughing against Harry’s collarbones and he pulls down the collar of his shirt just enough to kiss one of the bird tattoos - his bird. Harry hums happily, leaning back. 

“I’m in love with you, you know.”

“Likewise, Haz,” Louis says, smiling. “God look at us, a bunch of saps tonight, yeah?” 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, we’re always like this.” Harry says, shrugging. 

Louis laughs loudly, covering his mouth with his hand. “True. Disgusting.”

Harry smirks and kisses him, slowly, trying to savor the feeling of Louis’ lips against his enough for the next couple of hours. Louis hums against his mouth.

“This is going to be mental,” Louis says once they break apart. “I hope everyone likes the songs.”

“They do, yeah.” Harry nods. “I can’t believe we get to sing, uh--. Our songs. You know.”

Louis’ eyes light up, and he pushing a thumb into Harry’s hip. “I know, baby. Gonna be great.” 

“Ready?” 

Louis nods, leaning up to kiss Harry one more time before they walk back out to meet the other boys and get their mics. Everything happens quickly then, everyone getting put into place and their in-ears situated. The tour video starts on the big screens, Harry can hear the audience screaming over it.

They’re just about to run on stage when Louis calls his name from across the way, making Harry turn his head towards him. Louis lifts his wrist just enough for Harry to see, and points to a tattoo, a rope tied up in a sailor knot. He smiles and taps at the spot a few times, puckering his lips and blowing a kiss subtly in Harry’s direction. 

Harry returns the motion, lifting his wrist and tapping his finger against the anchor tattooed there. He kisses the air to return that as well, Louis smiling when he sees. They really are fucking sappy, Harry knows. It’s hard to care, really. 

Soon the music of their first song is starting and they’re all walking out into the lights, and Harry feels like he could cry. There are so many people, so many lights flashing and the screams are louder than anything he’s heard in a while. 

He looks over at the boys and sees similar looks of awe on their faces. Harry opens his mouth to sing the first line of the show, and is shocked by the power behind his own voice.

 _Here we go,_ Harry thinks. 

**10\. the where we are tour, first concert (post-show)**

“Did you hear the fucking crowd?” Louis is shouting from his place on the counter, the backs of his feet knocking against the cupboards below. 

Harry nods, finishing up the last few seconds of his teeth brushing. Louis has been sat on the counter while Harry went through his nighttime routine - putting his hair up in a headband for the night, washing his face, brushing his teeth. Louis chatters the whole time, Harry laughing along with his stories and adding his own from the night. Louis is buzzing on a whole new level than he usually is, Harry feels like he can feel the vibes coming off of him. 

“And when we walked together, during our part, you know? Oh my god.” Louis leans his head back on the mirror behind him. “That was incredible. Everybody lost it.”

“‘course they did.” Harry smiles. He’s particularly fond of that part of the show too - he and Louis get to act as a duo, walking down the catwalk and singing for thousands of people, just the two of them. It’s pretty fucking great. 

“Done,” Harry says, spitting out the last of the rinse from his mouth and wiping his face. He leans over and kisses Louis once before moving between his legs and settling his hands on his hips. “Now I’m all yours.”

“Took you long enough, christ,” Louis says as he wraps his arms around Harry’s neck and smirks. 

“Guess I could plan out my outfits for the rest of the tour, if there’s time,” Harry mumbles, starting to pull away. Louis tightens his legs around Harry’s waist and grunts. 

“No,” Louis pouts. “Mine now.”

“Very needy.” Harry smiles and kisses Louis, pulling his body towards him. 

Louis sighs against Harry’s mouth, wasting no time to kiss him greedily and tug on the ends of Harry’s hair. He’s been ready since they finished the concert - Harry has been, too - and made sure to tease Harry the entire way over to their hotel with his lips on his neck and a finger trailing up and down the inseam of Harry’s pant leg. He’s a brat, really. 

“Come on.” Harry gets a grip under Louis’ thighs and lifts him from the counter, spinning them both to walk out of the bathroom and towards their bed. They have quite a nice setup for the night, their hotels for this tour being even more private and over the top. The bed is huge and has gotta be one of the most comfortable hotel beds that Harry’s ever had. 

He tosses Louis down onto it gently and watches him get huffy for a moment before he scrambles his way up the bed. He makes grabby hands for Harry, getting impatient when he takes a second to pull his own briefs off. Louis has been naked since he showered, and his body looks perfect like this - all soft and warm and Harry wants to do nothing but _touch_. 

“Honestly, Styles,” Louis deadpans when Harry trips stepping out of his briefs. Harry grunts and finally makes his way up the bed, crawling over Louis’ body and straddling his thighs. He’s so much bigger than Louis now, he feels like he’s crushing him at times, but Louis says he likes the feeling of Harry being on top of him - he says it makes him feel safe. 

“Much better.” Louis smirks, tilting his head up expectantly. Harry leans down and kisses him, his hands on either side of Louis’ head. They kiss for a bit just like that, licking into each other’s mouths and sliding their hands up and down torsos. They’re in no rush, not tonight. 

Louis shoves at Harry’s shoulder while they kiss, and Harry topples over to lie flat on his back after a while. Louis’ got a twinkle of something in his eye as he lets his gaze roam over Harry’s body, and he licks his lips once before swinging a leg across Harry’s body and hovering over him.

“Hi,” he says quietly. 

Harry doesn’t get a chance to respond before Louis is kissing him again, with much more vigor than before. They’re kissing desperately now, Harry groaning into Louis’ mouth when he rocks his hips down to meet Harry’s. Harry moves his hands down Louis’ sides, stropping to grip at his hips. Louis is soft in all the right places, and Harry could spend hours just touching every part of his body, probably.

Louis kisses down Harry’s neck, biting at his collarbones and sucking bruises into the birds inked there. “Love when you show these off,” he says against his skin. “‘s like you want everyone to see.” 

Harry nods, whining when Louis nips again at one of the birds before kissing it gently. He trails down his torso, stopping momentarily to suck at Harry’s nipples - he knows Harry loves that. By the time Louis has made it to his stomach, Harry is hard, his dick rubbing lightly against the warm skin of Louis’ chest. 

“And these,” Louis murmurs, kissing at Harry’s brand new tattoos, splayed across his hips. “These are fucking gorgeous, baby. Love them.” He sucks a bruise into the laurel tattoo on his hip and looks up at Harry through his eyelashes.

Harry could lose it right then, honestly. 

He writhes underneath his mouth, his hips leaving the bed to try and press into Louis’ touch. Louis holds him down with both hands, shaking his head. Harry huffs, turning his face into the pillow. “Lou, c’mon.” 

Louis smirks. “What do you want, baby?” 

“You.” Harry answers, going for short and sweet. 

Louis must appreciate, because he quickly leans over and reaches for the lube already setting out on the bedside table. Harry whimpers expectantly, tilting his hips up slightly when he feels a cold finger at his entrance moments later. Louis makes a show of circling his rim - always a tease - until Harry starts rocking his hips down, trying to get Louis to do something. 

“Alright, I’ve got you,” Louis says, laughing quietly against Harry’s thigh. He’s laying between Harry’s legs now, his other hand still resting on his hip. “I’ve got you, love.”

Harry would be embarrassed of the noise that escapes his mouth when Louis finally pushes a finger in, but he sees the way Louis’ eyes flutter closed at the sound, so he’s not too bothered. Louis works his finger in and out of him slowly until Harry is begging for another, pushing his hips down into the bed in a circular motion. 

“Another, Louis, please--” Harry gasps when Louis slides a second finger alongside the first after a moment, and throws an arm over his face. “Ah, fuck.”

“Love watching you,” Louis says, leaning up to kiss at Harry’s dick, no real pressure of finesse there. “You come apart so pretty for me.” He licks a stripe up the length of his cock, and Harry can feel him push his hips forward into the mattress, searching for some friction. He adds another finger before long, making Harry’s breath come shorter and beads of sweat start to form on his forehead. 

Louis moves his mouth to Harry’s hip again, sucking a bruise into the tattoo there. He’s relentless, and Harry has to close his eyes when he sees the sight before him - Louis looks so gorgeous, mouthing at his skin and working his fingers inside of him. He hits Harry’s prostate with a practiced twist of his wrist, and Harry throws his head back and moans. He briefly thinks that he’s glad they’ve bought out entire floors and hotels for this tour, because he couldn’t be quiet at the moment even if he wanted to. 

Louis brings a hand up to squeeze at Harry’s other hip, pressing his fingers into his skin and groaning against his stomach. “Can I--? Harry, do you think I can--?”

Harry loves when Louis asks like this - Louis always has the upperhand, still has it even now, but it makes Harry feel something amazing when Louis seems to be just as weak for Harry as he is for Louis. 

He isn’t even sure what Louis is asking, exactly, but he knows the answer. “Yes, please, please,” Harry nods enthusiastically. He tilts his hips up, and Louis huffs. 

“Fuck--” 

Louis sits up, bringing himself to his knees between Harry’s legs. His face is sweaty and there’s a beautiful blush going from his cheeks down to his chest, already. Harry loves that he can do this to him, to this boy that he feels is out of his league every single day. Harry whines impatiently, pushing his hips down and clenching around nothing when Louis pulls his fingers out. Louis slicks himself up with lube, though, so Harry doesn’t think he can complain. 

He lines himself up at Harry’s entrance and looks up at him, making sure Harry is still there with him. “Good?” 

Harry nods. “Great. Come _on_ , Lou.” 

Louis shakes his head and laughs. “Alright, alright.” 

He pushes in so slowly, and Harry feels like he’s going to come before Louis is even fully pressed inside. He grips at Louis’ shoulders, tucking his face against his neck. Louis groans as he pushes the last of the way in, his hips finally meeting Harry’s arse. He’s still for a few moments, giving Harry enough time to adjust. They know each other’s bodies by now, know what’s good and what the other likes the best. Louis knows that Harry likes a bit of a tease, but at the moment it looks like Louis is struggling not to pull back and slam back into him. He squeezes a hand at Harry’s hip, his thumb digging into the laurel tattoo. 

“Move,” Harry whispers against Louis skin. “Please.” 

Louis doesn’t move right away, so Harry moves his hips in a circular motion, trying to get Louis deeper, somehow. Louis ducks his head and breathes out heavily. 

“Fuck, Harry--” he says before he starts moving his hips in shallow motions, being much too gentle for Harry’s liking. He’s amped up from tonight and he just wants _Louis_.

“Louis, I swear to god,” Harry whines, “if you don’t start fucking me in the next thirty seconds, I’m going to scream.” 

Louis pulls back to look at him, his eyes skittering across Harry’s face. He smirks before pulling his hips back and shoving back in quickly, making Harry groan happily. “Yeah, like that.” 

“Like this?” Louis asks, pressing hard on Harry’s hip and slamming into him over and over again, until Harry’s sounds are just a long string of whimpers. 

Harry can feel bruises forming on his hips and arms where Louis is pressing his fingers into his skin, and it makes his head swirl. Louis knows Harry gets off on it, wouldn’t do it if he didn’t. People see these marks, they always do - Harry gets to run around on stage every night with Louis all over him, showing everyone what he was doing last night. That he’s Louis’. 

He starts moving his hips to meet Louis’ movements, making Louis toss his head back and groan. Louis starts thrusting more quickly when Harry kisses at his neck, sloppy with it and running his teeth and tongue all over his hot skin. Louis shifts ever so slightly to change the angle, and they both moan loudly in unison because it’s _good_. Harry isn’t going to last, really, because Louis is slamming against his prostate with every thrust. He’s working a hand lazily over Harry’s cock, matching the rhythm of his hips and it’s almost too much for Harry to handle. Almost. 

“So fucking pretty,” Louis says breathlessly, gripping Harry’s hip with one hand as he rocks into him. “Fuck, ‘m getting close, Harry.”

Harry nods in agreement, biting at his lower lip as he whines. He’s _so_ close, the familiar feeling building in his gut already. He puts a hand over Louis’ hand on his cock, mumbling “more, more” until Louis’ gets the hint and swats Harry’s hand away. His hand starts moving over Harry’s dick in a blur, gripping more tightly and twisting his wrist on the upstroke, and it isn’t long before Harry is shaking beneath him. 

He comes with Louis’ name on his lips, spilling onto his stomach in bursts. Louis strokes him lazily until Harry whines, too oversensitive. Louis kisses his face all over, and starts really pounding into him, their skin meeting at each thrust with a loud _slap_. Harry feels like he’s useless, barely moving underneath him and gripping weakly at Louis’ neck, tugging gently on his hair. Louis’ breath starts coming in short huffs until he’s moaning without holding back, holding both of Harry’s hips down into the bed and pushing his thumbs against the laurel tattoos, watching the way the skin moves under his touch. 

“I have to--” Louis says frantically, sitting up and pulling out in one swift motion. Harry looks up at him, licking his lips. 

“Come on, babe,” Harry says, his voice sounding wrecked. 

Louis gets a hand on himself quickly, pushing his hips into his own fist until he’s coming. He spills onto Harry’s hip with a long groan, his come painting the inked skin. “Fucking hell--”

They both breathe heavily for a minute while Louis swirls his finger in the mix of their come pooled on the tattoo. He looks so fascinated, Harry thinks, and he looks absolutely gorgeous. 

Harry blinks slowly, coming down from his orgasm. “Do you think you’ll ever get over these?” he asks, gesturing to his new tattoos. This is the third time this week that Louis has come on them instead of inside of him, but Harry can’t say he minds. He wonders if he’ll just have permanent bruises on his hips as well. He doesn’t quite mind that, either.

“Will you ever get over my arse?” Louis asks, looking up at Harry cheekily. 

Harry laughs, rolling his eyes. “No.”

“Well, I won’t get over these, then.” 

“Fair enough.” Harry nods. 

Louis gets up shortly after to get a flannel to clean them both up with, and after he’s tossed it to the ground, he kisses over every inch of Harry’s torso, spending an extra minute on the places he’s left marks. He finally crawls up the bed, flopping down next to Harry and sighing. 

“I don’t think I’ll ever get over this.”

“Hmm?” Harry hums, his eyes already closed. He’s rubbing a hand through Louis’ long hair and he doesn’t think it’ll be long before they’re both asleep. 

“Like, playing shows and then being with you like this. Or just being with you.”

Harry smiles to himself, turning his face to kiss Louis’ forehead. “I feel the same, babe.”

“Like, we could do this for twenty more years and I’d still be fucking buzzing after, fuck.”

Harry nods, and Louis continues. “I love it. I love this. And you, you’re not so bad.”

They both laugh and Harry pulls the covers over them slowly. “Thanks, Louis. You’re not the worst, either.”

They kiss once before Louis tucks his head under Harry’s chin, wrapping an arm around his waist and throwing a leg over one of Harry’s. The only sound in the room is the buzz of the hotel’s air conditioning and a few loud voices outside, the city still alive as ever beneath their room. 

“I want to do this forever, I think.” Louis says after they’re silent for a moment, just before Harry falls asleep. “You know?”

Harry isn’t sure if Louis is talking about One Direction, or touring, or this thing they have. It’s a forever thing with them, always has been. He doesn’t think they had much say in that, not that they would want any. He’s not sure what Louis is referring to this time, exactly, but he knows the answer. 

“Me too. Forever.”

**Author's Note:**

> i just love harry and louis so much, y'all. i'm on tumblr at [soleilouis](http://www.soleilouis.tumblr.com)


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